Exist to Escape
by suspect tomatoes
Summary: She couldn't handle it anymore, but he knew otherwise. Miz/OC. One shot. For Ali Vegas.


**A/N: Wow, I just realized that the title sounds like that retarded Hardyz book... HA! And I thought I was being all existential and shit. But anyway, it's actually... disgusting with the amount of bad writing on this site. For Ali because I promised her something a long time ago and I never wrote it. :-) Kinda inspired by Echo by Trapt. hxc man.**

Mike Mizanin was a fucking asshole.

Now, I'm not going to say I was a fucking saint or anything... but that jerk off really knew how to push everyone's buttons. If it wasn't some guy he was talking trash about, it was some girl he was trying to sleep with.

But that girl was never me.

You know, his girlfriend.

I started dating him about three years ago... two or three, I don't know, I'm not exactly good with remembering things. But neither is Mike, apparently, since he openly hits on every Diva that crosses his path.

Especially that French Canadian bitch.

I liked Maryse when I first met her, I really did, but when Michael's wandering eye started running, I knew I was in trouble.

Big trouble.

* * *

"You're being unreasonable," he said, bored.

I could barely contain my anger. How could he just sit there with that nonchalant expression? He wasn't even looking at me, for Christ's sake. He was watching television without his shirt on, half attempting to get ready to go to the arena for a house show.

I just kept packing.

"Really, Al." He glanced over, then again, eyes widening. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I _told_ you, Michael, I'm _leaving_."

"Why?"

"Because I'm sick of your attitude." I couldn't even look at him. I felt like such a coward, but I knew I was doing the right thing. "You weren't like this before."

"What am I like now?" He wasn't even listening. I could tell by his tone—there was a beautiful woman on the TV.

"Solipsistic."

That caught his attention. He turned his head to look at me. "What?"

"Solipsistic." I threw something else into my suitcase. "It means egotistical."

His eyes were back on the screen, bending down distractedly to grab the drink he'd left on the floor. "You been hangin' out with Jericho or something?"

"No, but _you've_ been hanging out with the entire Divas locker room."

Finally, _finally_, he actually turned and _looked _at me, blinking. "What are you saying?"

"_I'm_ saying that I _know_ you've been cheating on me, Mike, and now I'm leaving."

He scoffed, turning back to the television. "You're not going to leave me."

"That's what you think." I snapped my suitcase closed. "Have a nice life, Mizanin."

"Yeah, whatever, Al, I'll see you after the show."

* * *

But he didn't. And he didn't see me at the show the next day, or the one after that. He didn't see at RAW the next Monday, and I wasn't at his house when he got home at two in the morning.

I left him in the past, where he should've stayed.

So I guess I shouldn't have opened the door then.

He was standing there, and his hair was wet, but it wasn't raining outside. I couldn't understand how he could just show up without being invited, but then I remembered it was _Mike_ I was dealing with.

So instead of slamming the door in his face, I did the most logical thing I could think of.

I talked to him. "Do you need something?"

He nodded slowly, somberly, eyes practically translucent.

I pursed my lips. "If you're looking for your fedora, it's on the top shelf in your closet."

"I'm not looking for my fedora." He grimaced slightly. "But thanks. I wouldn't have been able to find it."

I shrugged and crossed my arms. "Well, what is it, then?"

"I need you."

I shouldn't have opened that goddamn door.

And instead of closing it, I just turned and walked into my living room.

He followed me. "Ali, you just proved my point."

"You have a point?"

"Yeah. I need you. I wouldn't have known where my hat was if you hadn't told me. I wouldn't know what looks good on me or what kind of shoes I should get. You hold my life together."

I wanted to cry. I really did.

"That was the lamest thing you've ever said in your entire life." I fell onto the couch. "Jesus Christ, where'd you get that from?"

"I made it up."

"Tell the truth, Michael."

"Okay, so Creative helped me a little." He sat down next to me tentatively. I'd never seen him hesitant in my entire life. It was weird. "But it's the truth."

I shook my head. "No, it's not. You're just saying it because I'm your safety."

"You are, Al. You really are."

"Well, I'm not getting used anymore, Michael. I can't stand the way you look at those girls."

"All I ever _do_ is look, Ali!"

"Right. Like you haven't hooked up with Maryse?"

Mike laughed, really laughed, throwing his head back against the couch. "Are you _kidding_ me? She wouldn't give me the time of day!"

"Then stop looking if she doesn't like you."

"I will, Ali." He tried to grab my hand, but I moved it. He cleared his throat. "Do you believe me?"

"Not really."

His fingers touched my hair, near my ear. "Why not?"

"I—"

"Actually, you know what? I'm done asking why." He slid off the cushions, getting onto his knees in front of me. "Ali, we're wasting all this time asking _why_. Why ask why?"

"You're not making sense."

"While we're asking why, we're letting life pass us by."

"Oh, my _God_, did you just come up with that?"

He smiled slightly. "I'm not joking, Ali."

My lips fell. "I don't know if I can just forget what we've been through..."

"Well, you don't have to, but..." He sat back on his heels, biting his lip. He jumped forward. "But we can make new memories that completely _cancel_ the old ones."

"What are you—"

"Let's go get married."

I snorted and looked away, because his question made my heart jump into my throat. "Are you kidding me?"

"No. Ali, let's stop wasting time. Let's do this right now."

I shook my head. "Mike, we can't. There's just too much bad to cover up the good."

His lids dropped. "What do you mean?"

"I mean we can't get married because I know you'll never change."

"But I will, Ali, I have!" He held me down when I tried to get up. "Ali. Come on. Look me in the eyes, _tell me_ you love me."

I closed mine. "I can't."

"You can, you can." He shook me slightly. "_Ali_. You _can_!"

"No." His eyes were watery when I lifted my gaze. "I can't."

He smashed his trembling lips together. "I've changed, Ali. You know I have."

"In a week, Mike?"

"So I'll keep changing. But this is a start. I'll quit ignoring you, I'll quit my wandering eye, I'll stop being arrogant if you just _tell me you love me_."

"Mike—"

"Tell me you'd run away with me, right now, if given the chance."

I looked at him through the tears, trying so hard not to cry, but his face just turned on the water works before I could even stop myself.

"Just tell me," he whispered.

I nodded. "I would."

"Then the past doesn't matter."

And then he kissed me.

**A/N: Just something to write for the sake of writing. Review.**


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